


Faith Hope Love

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Space Opera, Hurt Castiel, Intrigue, King Castiel, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mechanic Sam Winchester, One Minor Sex Scene, Prince Castiel, Prince Gabriel, Prince Lucifer (Supernatural), Prince Michael (Supernatural), Singer Salvage Yard, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-29 10:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 16,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16742248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: The Novak Empire has claimed most of the galaxy as its own, but war still rages and millions across the galaxy still suffer.Prince Castiel Novak (first of his name) is determined to stop the conflict once and for all, continuing the work of his late father. Unfortunately for Castiel and the galaxy, his older brothers (Michael and Lucifer) have other ideas.The planet of Hunder is untouched by the war, its lack of strategic location leaving it out of Novak hands for now, but a backwater favored by pirates.Dean Winchester is a mechanic, getting by best he can while living on Hunder with his brother Sam and adoptive father Bobby Singer. Fortunately for Dean and the galaxy, Castiel Novak is about to crash land on his backwater planet.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Squeeeeeee! I want to thank Aceriee for taking part in the bang and producing the amazing artwork this story is based on. You can find their art post here on [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743574) and here on [Tumblr](https://missaceriee.tumblr.com/tagged/spnrb18fhl), please check the art out.
> 
> I want to say thanks to [majesticduxk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticduxk) for being a fantastic beta.
> 
> This is my third time taking part in the Supernatural Reverse Bang. And it always amazes me the very different stories that I find myself writing each year. It's amazing how much a single image can influence you when you start writing with art first, unlike regular bangs.
> 
> And okay, yes this story is definitely a bit influenced by Star Wars, with a bit of a Firefly feel just bubbling under its skin too.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it.

The readout showed he was shit out of luck. Red warning lights confirmed what was a bad situation. There was a high chance that he could end up spaced and drifting. Dead. Castiel Novak, first of his name, first in line (after a royal decree) to the Novak Empire, pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and tried to think of a solution that would be possible within the next three minutes.

Opening his eyes, Castiel looked at the map readout and saw a planet that looked just about reachable for a crash landing. If he got into his spacesuit and grabbed an evac bag he might stand a chance. Setting course, Castiel left it to the autopilot to take over as he tried not to consider that the ship’s hull might depressurize completely at any moment. The air was already feeling thin.

Castiel scrambled into a suit, got its air supply circulating and then picked up an evac bag from one of the nearby emergency lockers. The ship wasn’t exactly huge. Just a small two seater cockpit, with one set of quarters – big enough for one person to use at a time. But it also had a sizable transport hold and a pair of artillery guns for handling trouble.

Only the guns had been hit without Castiel realizing it until it was too late. A short circuit in the starboard side gun had led to it exploding and causing the problem that Castiel really didn’t want to die from. Though if his sister Anna hadn’t betrayed him in the first place, Castiel wouldn’t have been looking to crash land.

A clean getaway had been Castiel’s intention.

“One minute until complete hull depressurization,” warned the ship’s computer. Castiel checked his suit and bag again. The ship wouldn’t hit Hunder’s atmosphere for another minute and a half.

Castiel prayed that the gods would favor him. Not that they had done so for much of anything since he’d been named heir shortly before his parents had passed on. Still, he could not lose faith just when he would likely need it the most.

Hunkering down in the cockpit, Castiel secured himself in his seat and prayed that the trajectory he’d programmed in would ensure that he survived. He needed to return home, after all, and save his people from the machinations of the rest of his family.

Hitting Hunder’s atmosphere, Castiel had to close his eyes against the fiery glow that gripped the outside of the spacecraft. Around him the structure started to judder and shake. Castiel felt like he was being ripped apart. Eyes squeezed shut, he prayed that he survived and could make his way back home. Could see his friends again.

The ship’s computer made another warning, but the roar of the plummeting craft was so great that Castiel couldn’t distinguish any of the words. He felt uncomfortably hot in the suit as the ship heated up. Like a Rellian lobster being heated up in a pan of water without realizing that it was being cooked alive.

Suddenly the glow beyond Castiel’s eyelids was gone and he opened his eyes to look through the ship’s cockpit window. A deserted lonely landscape was fast approaching, scrub land and tall mighty trees. Mountains rose up above the trees and Castiel hoped he didn’t hit those as the rate of acceleration drove him towards the horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

“Did you see it?!” Dean exclaimed as he pushed the engine of his sidewinder. Earth and gravel pelted out behind as the craft skirted over the Hunder landscape, heading in the direction of the mountain range that was north of the homestead he shared with Sam and Bobby.

A crackle came through his helmet’s comms, and Sam’s voice followed with a long “duh” as he kept a safe distance to Dean’s right while driving his own sidewinder. Their crafts had a maximum lift of two hundred meters—not exactly something you were gonna fly off into space with. They were for terrestrial use only, and racing if Dean wasn’t talking in front of Bobby.

“I hope the crew’s okay,” Sam worried over the comm. And for a moment, Dean’s exhilaration left, because actually, while they might be racing to the most exciting thing to happen planet side in two seasons, there was a very real possibility that they would need to save someone’s life. Spaceships didn’t exactly fall out of the sky for no reason.

Dean nodded to himself, turning up the acceleration a knot more. “They’ll be fine. The Brothers Winchester are on their way!” He didn’t need to be able to see Sam’s face to feel the eye roll his brother had likely done at that.

Getting closer to the mountain, Dean had to use the telemetry his data-rig had picked up when he’d started tracking the craft. The data told them to head through the thickening tree line to get to where they should head to. Sam followed Dean’s lead, the nose of his sidewinder just visible in Dean’s peripheral vision.

Another minute and the devastation of the crashed ship started coming into view as they weaved their way through the trees. And then there weren’t any trees really left ahead of them, because the ship had scorched them. A smouldering wreckage was half buried ahead, nose in the ground, but there were no longer any visible fires.

It was a small craft. A light cargo carrier. Nothing special, though definitely fast. Galaxy hopper. Get in, get out and onto the next delivery. Dean and Sam slowed up a ways from it and shut off their sidewinders, grabbing their kit from the backs of their crafts. Fireproof gloves on, blades at their sides, Dean grabbed the medic kit and Sam picked up their cutters—in case they had to cut their way into the craft.

They kept their helmets on as they approached, in case the ship had any noxious chemicals that could burn their lungs.

“Paint work’s totally trashed. No sign where it’s from,” Sam said over the comm. “Think it’s a smuggler caught short?”

“If they are, better not have a load of dope in their hold. Bobby’ll have their hides for sure.” Dean stood back as Sam reached the most likely point of entry. A small hatch on the port side of the ship.

“Alright, let’s open her up,” Sam announced, bringing the cutters in front of him. He flipped a switch and a bright red laser glow lit up the end of the cutters. Bringing the device to the hatch, Sam started to cut their way in, taking his time in case they caused any secondary explosions.

Dean reached out for his sword with his left hand and gripped the hilt, the blade populating as he hefted the weapon. The sword’s blade would only be revealed if he or Sam touched the hilt, a security measure that had saved their lives more times than Dean wanted to count. Normally when things had gotten ugly in a bar. He kept a blaster at his back, but it would be dangerous to fire a weapon with gods knew what leaking at the site. It was risky enough having Sam use the cutter.

A loud clang echoed through the trees as the section of hatch fell into the spaceship. Dean pushed Sam out of the way and went in first.

Cabling and tubes hung down from the hull, the pathway was rucked up from the impact, making it a perilous walk inside. An unknown gas clouded the air and Dean tried to get a reading of it by checking his rig.

“Whole ship’s filled with coolant vapours,” Dean said over the comm. He could feel Sam following behind him.

“Good thing we kept our helmets on.”

“Let’s hope the poor S.O.B. had a chance to crawl into a suit before they crashed.” Dean headed towards the cockpit, choosing each step carefully as he did. A part of him couldn’t help looking at the ship’s innards and wondering just what they might be able to sell for parts and for how much.

The cockpit door opened after some persuading and Dean slowly poked his head through. Slumped in one of the two seats there was a figure in a spacesuit. There were burn marks on parts of the suit, but it looked to be intact.

Sam took Dean’s sword from him as Dean ambled over to the suited figure and checked for signs of life. The light was wrong in the cockpit to see the figure’s face through the helmet, but the vitals readout on the inside of the helmet, which was reversed for Dean, showed that the ship’s pilot was alive.

Checking that the suit definitely hadn’t been breached, Dean motioned to Sam. Stowing the sword and the cutter, the two of them activated a stretcher, letting it unfold on the slanting floor. Carefully, they moved the pilot onto the stretcher, the pilot not stirring as they moved them.

It took longer to get back out of the ship with the pilot on the stretcher, but as they got back over to their sidewinders, Dean was glad they’d made the trip to the crashed ship. Looking back over the hulk, there was lots they could easily scavenge from it, but Dean did wonder if maybe he could get it to fly again.

Dean left the pilot to Sam’s ministrations as he went back to the ship, activated a fire suppressant bot so that it could keep the ship from igniting and maybe do something about the coolant leak. Just as he was stepping out of the port hatch, Dean caught sight of the artillery the ship had. Large gouges from a high intensity round had damaged one of the ship’s guns. The blast pattern didn’t look like any that could come from Purgatory’s pirates.

Wary, Dean set-up a security field around the ship and then went back to Sam and the pilot.

The pilot wasn’t out of their suit yet, because it was too dangerous to remove it outside of a sterile environment like the med bay back at Bobby’s. Instead Sam was busy hooking up the stretcher between the two sidewinders. The ride back to Bobby’s wouldn’t be as fast as their ride to the crash, but they didn’t want to go too fast and risk further injury.

“Suit’s not letting me get a reading,” Sam grumbled as he finished securing the stretcher.

Dean took his sword back from Sam and stowed it. Leaning over the pilot again, Dean could finally see their face through the helmet’s visor. The pilot looked to be male and, if Dean was being particularly honest with himself, maybe on the right side of handsome.

“We’ll get him in the medic bay and find out what’s what soon enough.” Dean climbed up on his sidewinder, leg either side of the body.

Once they were both on their sidewinders, Dean and Sam edged the crafts up four meters above the ground. If they hadn’t had their cargo, they could have flown over the trees now that they’d claimed their find and made it so that no one else could do a thing with it. But with their friend unconscious between the two sidewinders, they would need to slowly pick their way through the trees.

At least once they were past the tree line, they’d be able to go a touch faster. The two of them started to pick their way between the trees and Dean kept glancing at the prone figure on the stretcher. He wondered who the guy was and how he had come to crash on Hunder. Dean wondered who would want the guy dead enough to use weapons more powerful than what the pirates usually had access to.

Dean sighed and shook his head. But the sound must have gone out over the comm, as Sam piped up, “You okay?”

“I dunno. Just a little worried about who might have had it in for our friend here. You saw the blast marks on the guns, right?” Dean glanced over to Sam and then looked back at trees they were flying between.

“I don’t think they’re local. Our friend here, or the damage to their ship.” Sam sighed audibly over the comm. “So long as the security field holds, no on one’s going to know they’re here.”

 _And so long as no one was tracking the pilot up to that point,_ Dean thought to himself as they gathered more speed and broke through the tree line.


	3. Chapter 3

Light, bright and searing, filtered through Castiel’s eyes as he started to open them. He squinted and winced, head feeling like it had done a couple of rounds with a wall. Vision clearing he focused on the figure beside him who had a medical scanner held over him, gloved hands tightly gripping the scanner.

The medic or whoever he was, looked to Castiel’s face, eyes going wide in surprise. “He’s awake!” he called out to someone unseen, voice muffled by the medical mask he wore over his mouth.

Another figure, not quite as tall as the first, appeared, medical mask and goggles on. Castiel didn’t remember being infected with anything particularly deadly, but he did suppose people who lived a mainly Terran lifestyle tended to be more prone to infection than frequent flyers. Unless they got a biome sample off someone, and quickly synthesized a booster from it, meeting off worlders could be dangerous. Though depending on the world, the off worlder could be equally at risk.

“Hey,” said the new guy, “do you mind if we get a biome sample?”

Castiel swallowed and tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. Instead he nodded a “yes”.

“Thanks. Sam get the guy some water while I take the sample.”

_So the tall one is Sam. Then who’s…_

“I hope you don’t mind us rescuing you from your ship, but you looked like you needed help.” The shorter guy pulled out a series of sampling swabs and rubbed them along exposed sections of Castiel’s skin and the insides of his ears. “My name’s Dean, by the way.”

Castiel looked Dean over and wondered what he would look like without the protective gear on.

“Here,” Sam said at his side, holding a cup with a metal straw to Castiel’s lips. “Drink.”

Wrapping his lips around the straw, Castiel sucked down some cool water, mouth quickly feeling less parched than it had before. Refreshed, Castiel pulled off the straw and relaxed. “Thank you. And thank you for rescuing me.”

Castiel looked at the two figures. Dean was putting the swabs through a synthesizer and Sam was checking Castiel’s readings again. Neither had asked for his name, and Castiel was grateful for this delay. He wasn’t sure yet if he could trust them with his true identity.

_Hmm, what should I go by? I need something I’ll remember, but something that fits my unusual arrival and the fact that they’ll soon realize that was a crown ship…_

Dean and Sam administered the boosters to each other and then gave Castiel a courtesy booster based on their biomes. Once everyone was inoculated, Dean and Sam moved their medical masks and goggles, though Sam kept his gloves on as he continued to monitor Castiel’s vitals. A third booster was set aside on a tray--Castiel didn’t know for who.

“So… do you have a name?” Dean eventually prompted.

Castiel licked his lips. “You may call be Balthazar,” he replied, hoping his good friend wouldn’t mind him borrowing his name.

“Just Balthazar?”

“Yes.” Castiel reached out for his water and took another sip. His headache was receding thanks to Sam’s ministrations. He was certainly grateful that they had found him and not his family.

“Well, just Balthazar, your ship was looking pretty beat up after your landing. If you can call that a landing.” Dean pulled back his sleeves and flipped out his right hand. The rig projector on his wrist projected a three dimensional video of Castiel’s ship. Scorch marks and bent metal didn’t endear Castiel towards the idea that it would fly again.

“I would call it a crash,” Castiel deadpanned.

“Crash or landing, I’ve checked out the damage we recorded and it’s up to you: either you let us sell it for parts and let us take a finders’ fee. Or you let us fix it up and get it flying again, paying us for parts and labor.” Dean flicked the hologram around, making the crashed ship spin in the air.

Castiel knew it was hard to come by working space craft planet side in this part of the system. Ships were expensive. Fuel could be expensive, depending on the engine. It didn’t make sense to destroy it when he probably wouldn’t be able to easily find another way off of Hunder. And he could always ask Dean to make some changes that would make it less identifiable as being from the crown fleet.

“Let’s fix her up,” Castiel said. “She deserves to fly again.”

“If you’re sure, Balthazar. But my brother and I will need a down payment on the work. Say ten percent of the likely cost.” Dean held out his hand for Castiel to shake.

Castiel gripped Dean’s hand tight and squeezed as they shook on the deal. “I wouldn’t have any other way. Get me a network connection and I’ll transfer the credits.”

At least Castiel had had the foresight to hide his own wealth in several off the books credit accounts that his treacherous siblings knew nothing about. It was the only thing he’d managed before they had committed treason. He wondered if the guests for his coronation were okay.

Once the credits had been transferred, Sam brought Castiel some clothes and he was given some privacy to shower and change. When he finally left the medical bay the two brothers had brought him to, Castiel complimented the brothers’ setup.

“Ah, Bobby’s always thinking ahead. And I wouldn’t say the local wildlife is all as friendly as us,” Dean half-joked.

“I will thank Bobby then… Where am I, exactly?”

“Singer Salvage,” Sam explained, keying open a door between the med bay and the rest of the compound.

“Bobby’s and, technically, our business,” Dean offered. The three of them passed through the doorway Sam had opened.

“You get much sal-” Castiel stopped talking as his eyes took in the view from the room they had walked into. He was in an open living quarters with a kitchen and study area next to each other. One side of the space was set with a wall of viewer blocks, giving an uninterrupted view outside the compound.

Scrub land gave way to trees and in the distance were the peaks of snow capped mountains. It was a landscape so unlike home. Life was real here—he could believe that he might encounter some of the local wildlife should he step beyond Singer Salvage’s walls. Back in the crown city, all was pre-fabricated, plants fake or grown in nutri-gel. Nothing from the earth. It was a sterile place.

The history books and books on terraology that Castiel had been fond of reading as a child had once described his home planet as home to billions of different species and peoples. A paradise. And then war and greed had changed all that. Generations of conflict had left his world a husk of what it once was. But Castiel had been ready to continue his late father’s work to change all that. His father had always said that he, Castiel, the whole family had the power to change Paridio and the galaxy’s fate—if they had the will to.

Michael and Lucifer had been in opposition to what their father had started. Castiel had long suspected that his brothers were receiving money from the very enterprises that were working to destroy their world, it seemed. His brothers knew Castiel had the will and the allies to see their father’s work through and that was why—Castiel was very sure—he had been targeted, why his brothers had wanted him dead or at least muzzled.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Sam asked from Castiel’s left.

“It is a nice view.” Castiel turned to look at Sam and Dean. “I-” his stomach growled and Castiel stopped talking.

“Food?” Dean asked, grin on his face.

“Please. I can’t actually remember the last time that I ate.” Castiel followed Dean and Sam to the kitchen, sitting at a counter.

Castiel drank water as Dean cooked and Sam helped. Bobby joined them while the brothers cooked. They were fixing a light meal that suggested it was near mid rotation.

“Bobby Singer,” the older man introduced himself, hair swept backwards. His beard was graying, but his eyes sparkled with cycles of experience and knowledge.

“Balthazar,” Castiel said, shaking the man’s hand. “Thank you allowing me the use of your medical facilities.”

Bobby held up a hand to say it was nothing. “To be fair, you did come in on a fine ship.”

“Come in? I crashed. Let’s use the correct word.” Bobby’s face crinkled up in mirth and he nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I did see Dean’s recording. You’re lucky you survived that.”

A chill ran down Castiel’s spine as the fullness of what had happened to him in the past rotation, hit him. He really was lucky to have survived everything. He could have blown up after his gun was shot. The computer could have failed when he tried to enter Hunder’s atmosphere.

Calming himself, a cool determination gripped Castiel. He would return to the Novak’s home world, to Paridio, and show his brothers his displeasure.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean secured Balthazar’s galaxy hopper onto a tow bed with grav locks. The sidewinders were too tiny for the salvage job, so Dean had borrowed Bobby’s terra hauler and fixed a tow bed to it. The hauler and the bed hovered a meter off the crater left by Balthazar’s ship. Driving back to the salvage yard would be slow going and Sam would be riding in the gun pit, ready to deal with anyone who tried to interrupt the trip. 

Getting up into the hauler’s cabin, Dean slapped Sam’s leg as he stood in the pit, a 360 degree view of their surroundings available to him. “Ready?” 

“Just get going, will you? I wanna get back,” Sam called down. “It’ll be full night soon.” 

“Yeah, yeah...” Dean pressed a few buttons and the hauler’s engine whined to life, lifting the craft two meters higher. The bed raised with it and steadied itself in the air. Pressing a few more buttons, a heavy raucous musical track started playing over the hauler’s comms and Dean could practically hear Sam rolling his eyes. 

Ignoring his brother, Dean followed the route home his rig had plotted out for him. It was a longer route than the one they’d taken directly through the forest with Balthazar, but their load was larger this time. Passing out of the tree line, Dean turned the hauler so that it would skirt around the outer trees of the the forest before taking a direct route to Singer Salvage. 

Even with Sam keeping an eye out for trouble, Dean didn’t slack off either. With the sun almost set, it was even more likely that they might be ambushed. No one ever knew how many pirates might be taking a bit of shore leave on Hunder, it being the decentralized, anti-federalist pocket of civilization that it was. The local sheriff hadn’t called in with any information the past few days, but reports could be sketchy. 

The sky continued to darken and Dean looked up as stars that started to creep into view. He saw something silver dash across the sky and he hoped it was a shooting star rather than a pirate vessel from Purgatory. Pushing further forward on the control wheel, Dean sped the hauler up, that fear of what might be out there starting to really worry him. 

After all, gurdins, happas and xenopozes were not the friendliest of critters, bites far bigger than any pirate’s, though happas could be friendly. Dean could handle himself well enough against gurdins and happas if it came to it, he could swing his sword fast enough. The problem was the impossibly fast speed of xenopozes, with their dozens of limbs and acid spit. 

Dean shivered in his seat and concentrated on the landscape ahead. He flicked on the hauler’s lights and Sam shifted above him. 

“Is that something on our ten?” Sam called down. 

Looking to the read out from his rig that was being projected on the hauler’s front windscreen, Dean tried to figure out if the dot was something that enjoyed going bump in the night or something with blasters. The dot disappeared. 

“Just a happa bedding down,” Dean called to Sam. His call was the right one two minutes later when they passed a makeshift happa bed, a dug out hole covered with branches and grasses. Happa were nomadic four legged creatures with soft brown fur and a trunk like snout no longer than its head. Peaceful when you gave them a wide berth, half a tonne of fun when you pissed them off. Dean had a pet one as a child, until some damn pirates had slaughtered it. 

The plains were quiet as they sped back to Bobby’s. Reaching the compound happened without incident and the two of them put Balthazar’s ship into Bobby’s workshop no problem. It had taken a few hours to get everything sorted, but Bobby had been checking in with them and apparently he and Balthazar had a surprise waiting for them once they entered the living quarters. 

“Ah, surprise,” Balthazar greeted, a shy smile on his face as he stood by the entry lock. Their home smelled of Rellian tunder, a sweet rich spice that reminded Dean of days when his parents were still alive. There were many other complex mouthwatering smells piled on top of each other that Dean started to salivate, stomach rumbling quietly. 

“Wow, surprise alright,” Dean smiled at Balthazar, taking in his crisp blue eyes and mussed black hair. Stomach looping, Dean swallowed nervously and made his way further inside, heading over to their lockers so he could get out of his hauling gear. 

“That smells amazing, Balthazar,” Sam greeted, following Dean to his own locker. 

“Thank you, both,” Balthazar said, heading back towards the kitchen. “It’s an old recipe, handed to me by a very good… friend.” 

Dean looked towards the kitchen area at that. The hesitation then was interesting. _Wouldn’t surprise me if there was a thing or two he’s not telling us._ Dean thought. But seeing as how the guy hadn’t tried to kill them yet and hadn’t tried anything with Bobby, or stolen their sidewinders or anything that could help get him to an outpost—Dean figured he could offer the guy the benefit of a doubt. 

Cleaning up and getting comfortable, Dean helped with the few odd things that needed draining before serving. Sam was helping Bobby with checking over a parts order they would need to pull together in the morning. It was business as usual, just with an extra house guest. 

Though as the evening progressed, Dean worried about Balthazar using the guest room, the bed could be pretty unforgiving. And they’d been meaning to do something about it for a while, they just didn’t have guests very often and with all that was usually going on at Singer Salvage it would slip to the back of their minds. 

_Maybe I should take the guest room?_ Dean thought. He’d offer later, he decided as they all finally sat down to eat. 

“So, Balthazar, what are you doing in this corner of the system?” Sam asked with no subtlety at all. Okay sure, a shot up galaxy hopper wasn’t the most discrete of things, but sometimes it was best to not ask more than you needed to know, beyond whether someone would kill you or not. 

“Trying to reach my brother. He lives on Janwin. Runs an establishment there.” Balthazar ducked his head down and spooned into his mouth some of the sweet, spicy Rellian gumbo that he’d cooked. 

“Janwin, huh? That’s some ways from here. Where were you heading from?” Bobby asked, voice taking on that deep rumble it got when he was feeling less than sure about a person. 

Dean swallowed a mouthful of gumbo and looked between Balthazar, Sam and Bobby. Sam and Bobby were looking at Dean like he needed to add a question to the slowly growing pile of interrogation that they were laying down. 

Balthazar showed no sign of being under strain, he just picked up his cup and casually took a sip of water like nothing was wrong. “I was trying to escape the Novaks, on Paridio. I may have… slept with one too many of their court.” 

“Ha!” Dean laughed, trying not to sink into a full series of belly laughs. “You sly son of a bitch. Overstayed your welcome, huh?” 

Balthazar smiled and set his cup down. “Oh, most definitely.”


	5. Chapter 5

“If you are sure?” Castiel hesitated, standing in Dean’s room as Dean picked up the few things he would need for the night. He noticed how the other man kept his weapon at his hip. It wasn’t too hard to imagine that perhaps pirates might come raiding in the night and try their luck at such an isolated place. Castiel wondered if there was anything in the room that might serve as a weapon should the need arise. 

“Yes. You don’t deserve the guest bed.” Dean punched a few buttons on his rig. “If you need anything, I’m just down the hall, on the right.” He hesitated, as if he might have something more to say, but then shook his head. “Good night, Balthazar.” 

Dean left and Castiel was alone in the unfamiliar bedroom. He looked to the pile of sleeping clothes that Dean had found for him. They were worn, but clean. Castiel changed and pulled the gray sleep pants on and an old plain black shirt that was T shaped. He’d never known such garments on Paridio. Instead he either slept naked or in silk robes at night. 

He looked to the closed doorway where Dean had been stood not long ago. There was a stirring in Castiel’s heart. The generosity Dean had shown him was beyond much anyone had genuinely shown him, aside from his brother Gabriel, or his friends Balthazar and Benny. Gabriel had long ago escaped to Janwin, while Castiel hoped Balthazar and Benny had not been found by his brothers. They were good, loyal friends and didn’t deserve to be hurt, because Castiel wasn’t there to take their place. 

Settling down under the covers, Castiel tried to let his mind relax and find his calm. It had been a long rotation that much was sure. The new rotation would see Castiel look to start his journey back to Paridio by way of Janwin. He was sure Gabriel would come to his aid, for he had never had much love for the ways Lucifer and Michael tried to run their family. It was part of why he had left. 

“Cassie, you can always come find me,” Gabriel had said on that night some ten cycles ago. “I’m not angry with you. But Luci and Mikey are going to get us all killed, if dad isn't careful,” with those final words, Gabriel kissed Castiel’s forehead and stepped onto the ship that would take him away. 

It wasn’t until a cycle ago that Castiel had gotten word from Gabriel, knew where his brother had come to rest. Janwin was a republican planet in the middle of the Novak Empire. But the technology and skill of the people from that world had kept Castiel’s ancestors at bay. It was his father who had signed a peace agreement with them and finally opened up trade between Janwin and the rest of the system. 

Hunder was not part of the Novak Empire. It was a backwater planet of little interest as far as many of Castiel’s family had been concerned over the cycles. But having seen its fauna for the first time, Castiel suspected that it offered some hope for the rebuilding of Paridio, once he was returned to his home and had taken the throne. 

At some point Castiel must have drifted into sleep, because the next thing he knew he was being called awake by Dean. Washing and dressing, Castiel wondered what he might be able to do to ensure his ship was fixed quickly. Aside from being able to provide credits, Castiel had never been great with mechanical things. He was a competent cook, only thanks to Benny, and Balthazar had shown Castiel how to get laid. But none of that would help him fix a ship. 

Though as he stood in the middle of Dean’s room and really thought about it for a moment, a blush rose to Castiel’s cheeks. If the compliments of his cooking and the way Dean had looked at him the previous night were anything to judge his circumstances by—cooking and sex could very well help him get his ship fixed. Mouth going a little dry, Castiel hurried along to breakfast. 

It was difficult not to blush as Dean served him food and talked.


	6. Chapter 6

“Hey, Balthazar, can you hand me the concorder cutter?” Dean called from under the galaxy hopper’s hull. He waited with his hand out, but no cutter came. _Duh, probably doesn’t know what one is._ Dean slid out from under the ship, pulled his goggles up, and his breather down, and looked over to where Balthazar was confusedly staring at Dean’s wall of tools. 

“Sorry,” Dean apologized, and reached out for the cutter. Smoothing out and rebuilding the exterior of the ship was going better than he’d expected. It likely helped that so much of the ship’s exterior was made from common body work segments that could be found all over the galaxy. Though he knew the electrics and computers inside the ship would likely be a different matter. Considering how some parts had been thrust inwards from the exterior, however, Dean really needed to deal with the shell first. 

“So that’s a concorder cutter?” Balthazar prompted, eyes keenly studying the tool. Twice the length of Dean’s hand, thin and gray, it would cut through the shielding without melting the metal there too much. 

“Uh huh, yep. I had to check what kind of shielding the hopper had before I could pick a cutter,” Dean explained lamely. He drew Balthazar over to the side of the ship he needed to cut a shielding panel from. 

“I still can’t quite believe that this held together enough to keep me alive.” 

“It’s a good Paridio build,” Dean slapped the side of the hull, “I mean, getting the right trajectory for re-entry helped a lot. But it could handle the impact of the landing. Some ships that crash here? Get through the atmosphere only to shatter into pieces as soon as they make contact.” 

Balthazar blanched. 

“Doesn’t happen often of course. Tends to be pieces of crap built on Purgatory that does that.” Dean pulled his goggles back down and his breather up. 

Nodding, Balthazar sat on the workshop floor so that Dean could see him as he crept back under, keeping an eye out for any new leaks. Under the ship, Dean’s nose was accosted by the scent of coolant that had stopped leaking, but was still exposed more than he would have liked. It was nasty stuff, and he could still smell it from the breather that protected him. Balthazar wasn’t in direct danger—it was only a problem if you were getting as close as Dean was. 

Dean set the cutter to work and slowly pulled the shielding panel off the hull that was going to need investigation and repairs. It was the first panel of many. 

“What’s it like in Paridio?” Dean asked after the two of them had been quiet for a while. 

“Bigger than life,” Balthazar said in a ponderous voice. “The people seem to be awake all the time. No end of energy… despite the wars raging in the Empire’s name several systems over.” 

Dean knew war was always happening somewhere in the galaxy. He’d grown up with it as a constant background. Hunder’s usefulness was only to smugglers, pirates, and those who didn’t want to live under royal rule. There were few resources on the planet and okay Hunder had been left alone since an emperor 100 cycles ago had tried his luck and found that it was impossible to deal with the people of Hunder. Too much effort for too little a return. Though Dean was sure that if the planet had been smack bang in the middle of a major trading route it would have been a different story. 

“So what’s the life of a courtesan like anyways?” Dean called to Balthazar. 

“Kind of boring, actually. Luxurious, I suppose, in comparison to the lives of billions of others, but it was one long parade of feasts, parties, balls and trivial spats between rivals. When you’ve been to one masked ball, you’ve been to them all,” Balthazar explained. 

“But the ladies?” 

Balthazar chuckled. It was a strange sound and Dean couldn’t tell if the man was amused by his question. 

“The ladies were fine, yes. But not as to my taste, perhaps?” Balthazar said suggestively. 

Dean almost banged his head on the hull. Lowly cursing, he willed his libido to shut the heck up. _Get it together! It’s not like you haven’t had sex in… okay, it’s been a while. Things have been slow—no need to jump in bed with the guy who you don’t even know if he’s in line to the throne or something._ Turning to catch Balthazar out of the corner of his eyes, Dean swallowed. _Crap, he probably is something like 101st in line._

Calming himself down, Dean turned his attention back to the ship. He kept chatting with Balthazar, learning that the courtesan had had a lonely childhood, having been sent to a private off-world school for much of it. Balthazar had a few close friends, some guy called Benny, plus one of his brothers had been quite close with him, the one on Janwin. Dude called Gabriel from what Dean could tell. 

Dean told Balthazar about growing up with Sam under Bobby’s care, after pirates had taken the lives of their parents. Talked about learning how to build and repair all sorts of craft. About how one day he hoped Sam might go to study at university on Janwin. He told Balthazar more than any one he’d been on a date with. 

By the end of the day, the exterior work was finished and it was the trickier internal wiring and the like that would need be seen to next. That work would take the longest, aside from finding fuel. It would be days before the wiring would be all right again, and the computer systems reconfigured. Dean was determined to help get Balthazar on his way, but as the day wore on, Dean kept having visions of him and Balthazar sharing a goodbye hug that turned into a kiss, then a really heated kiss and then much more.


	7. Chapter 7

On the fourth rotation of his stay, Castiel took pity on Dean. His rescuer had survived several nights on the guest room bed, but during the fourth rotation, Dean had been visibly wincing and rubbing at his abused lower back. 

“I will take the guest bed,” Castiel announced as they made their way towards the bedrooms, having enjoyed an evening of playing Moondoor chess. 

Dean stopped and turned, brows raised in alarm. “Dude, no. You can’t take the guest bed.” He winced and rubbed at his back, as if underlining all Castiel had been bothered by. 

Castiel pointed at Dean’s back. “The bed is clearly doing you no good. We should switch, before you’re no longer able to pretzel yourself to move around my ship.” 

“But then you’ll be in a crap position to fly it!” Dean crossed his arms in front of himself. Castiel mimicked Dean, crossing his arms. _Well, then there is only one solution, it seems_. “We shall share the bed in your bedroom.” 

Dean’s cheeks colored and he visibly swallowed. “You think we should share my bed?” 

Castiel shrugged, feeling his own cheeks warm slightly. “It seems the only logical thing to do, if we both wish to retain working, functional backs.” 

“Ahem.” Sam stood behind the both of them, a grin on his face. “Look, can you two please just figure out where you’re sleeping and with who. Some of us are trying to get to sleep.” 

Dean jumped away from Sam and into Castiel. “Fine, fine! Balthazar and I will go sleep in my room.” 

Sam held up a dismissive hand. “I don’t care about the details. All I care about is the two of you shutting up. Good night.” Sam spun on his heel and trooped off back down the hall to his own room. 

Castiel looked to Dean, who sighed and led the way to his room. Heading inside, Castiel grabbed the sleepwear he had been borrowing and went off to use one of the nearby bathrooms. 

Returning to Dean’s room and placing his neatly folded clothes on a storage unit, Castiel turned to look at Dean who was already laying in bed, on the side nearest the door. There was no sign of the sword that he always had to hand—Castiel wondered if maybe it was under his pillows. 

The bed was plenty big enough for the two of them to use and Castiel had to admit that its mattress was really rather comfortable. He settled in under the covers. Silence hung between them and Castiel sighed. 

“Lights off,” he called to the room and the overhead lights clicked off. “Goodnight, Dean.” 

“Night, Bal-thazar,” Dean said with a yawn. 

Despite the oddness of the situation, and how much it was making Castiel’s stomach clench with anticipation, Castiel eventually drifted off to sleep. 

He dreamed of returning to Paridio, of the family that had betrayed him. Michael and Lucifer standing over him, trying to force him to renounce the throne or they would start killing his people. His subjects. Castiel ran from the dream, forcing himself away from the nightmare. He drifted through happier memories and into his first kiss. 

A ball hosted by his father’s court. Castiel had just come of age and had been dressed as an angel, a halo hovering over his head, body draped in perfect blue silks. He could no longer recall the name of the young man who had pressed his lips to Castiel’s. Instead Castiel could recall the excitement and anticipation. 

Lips pressed against his, warm and inviting, insistent. Castiel opened himself to the kiss, tasting the man. Smelling the synthetic whiskey on his breath. A hand gripped him, pulling him close by the small of his back, breath gusted across his mouth. Slowly, Castiel opened his eyes and tried to see in the gloom of Dean’s bedroom. 

Dean was kissing him, while still asleep. Castiel felt no violation at the crossing of his boundaries, but he feared how Dean might feel, so gently he shook Dean’s arm and he slowly woke up as Castiel pulled away. 

“W-what is it?” Dean asked groggily. 

“We were kissing in our sleep.” 

Dean stilled. “I’m so sorry. I’ll, I’ll...” Dean started to move again, but Castiel reached out and held onto Dean’s arm. 

“I liked it,” Castiel announced. 

“You did?” 

“Yes.” 

Castiel could hear Dean thinking his words over. Choosing how next to respond. Castiel really had enjoyed their kiss. 

“Would you let me kiss you again?” Dean asked. 

“Yes.” 

It was all the invitation Dean needed to slide close to Castiel and pull him into his arms. They were strong and safe, shielding Castiel from those who wished him harm. Mouth accepting and determined as before, Dean kissed Castiel, drawing him in until they were open mouthed, whimpers and moans vibrating through them as they sought a connection. 

Dean rolled them over, so his body covered Castiel’s. Their bodies molded perfectly against each other, fitting just so. Clothes separated them, but Castiel guided Dean’s lower body to just the right place so that he could press and slide in ways that sent sparks through their bodies. They kissed and rubbed against each other, eager to test out this new aspect of their relationship, but not running too fast. 

Release sneaked up on Castiel, making him shudder and pant into Dean’s mouth. Dean followed shortly after and the two of them caught their breaths before moving to clean up. 

When they settled back in bed again, it was with Dean spooning around Castiel, holding him close. He fell quickly back to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

“When I said to shut it, I didn’t mean that,” Sam griped for only Dean to hear as they worked on Balthazar’s ship.

Snickering, Dean joined a set of wires together, clipping so there was contact between them. He secured them back where they should go. “I’m sure, baby brother. But it’s a perfectly natural-” 

“Stop being a dick. You could have at least, I dunno, gone in the guest room. Away from everyone.” 

“Dude, that bed sucks!” 

“Please do not mention sucking around me!” Sam hissed. 

Dean turned to his brother and made a series of obscene sucking sounds. 

“Oh for- get the hell away from me and let me work in peace!” Sam squealed. 

Dean laughed and squirreled out of the place by the interior panel they were working on. The wiring would be done in a day or so, and then hopefully Bobby’s contact Rufus would have a delivery of fuel for them. Durilium rods were hard to come by, but Balthazar’s credits had made it possible. 

How this courtesan had such funds, Dean had tried not to think about. It was entirely possible that it was all Balthazar’s own money, but Dean wasn’t completely sure. Like he wasn’t completely sure if Balthazar had glowed a light blue at some point in the night, while held by Dean. It could have been the data point in his room running through a routine, the light catching on Balthazar, and it probably was. Still, Balthazar had looked almost transcendent in the light. Beautiful even. 

He walked over to the tool rack on the wall and put away tools that had been left out. Balthazar was perched on a stool, flipping through one of Bobby’s old books. Dean couldn’t see what it was that Balthazar was reading, but the image of him reading was a little at odds with his idea of a courtesan. Still, what was Dean to know? He’d never even set foot on an Empire planet. 

“Whatcha reading?” Dean stopped by Balthazar. 

“A treatise on re-terraforming. It’s interesting.” Balthazar turned the page and then closed the book. 

Bobby had always favored physical copies of texts. Liked the tangibility of them. He had books on his own data rig, but he always said that it wasn’t the same. Dean definitely agreed that reading a real book and falling asleep so that it fell on your face was a different experience to reading something on your data rig and falling asleep. 

“Terraforming, huh?” Dean got in Balthazar’s space. 

Balthazar reached up and wrapped his arm around Dean’s hips. “It’s something I’ve been interested in for a long time. And it’s re-terraforming. Returning life to a planet.” 

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but a loud bang sounded from a nearby corner of the compound, outside of the workshop. The ground rumbled and he could hear Bobby shouting in the distance. Without thinking Dean was pulling away from Balthazar and pulling out his sword. 

“Hide,” Dean ordered Balthazar. 

The other man gave him a fearful look before nodding and running deeper into the workshop. Sam came towards Dean, a blaster already in his hand. “Company?” 

“Uninvited.” Dean flicked his sword, making its bright red blade file piece by piece into deadly existence. 

And the two of them picked up their helmets, and jammed them on their heads. They sprinted out into the yard Singer Salvage centered around, hulks of old craft resting on the dirt. Dean’s heart stopped in his chest as he saw Bobby on his knees in front of a group of people dressed in military fatigues, the grays and badges of service giving them away. He recognized the crest for the Novak Empire. 

“Let him go!” Dean called as the group looked to him and Sam. 

One of the figures stepped forward, tapping the side of his helmet so its visor slid up. “Deliver us Castiel Novak and you will be left unharmed,” said the commanding officer in a man’s voice. 

_Castiel Novak?_ Dean resisted looking towards the workshop where Balthazar, N _o, the damn crown prince!_ was hiding. “There’s no one here of that name. Now please, let him go.” 

The commanding officer shook his head. “We know the prince is here. Surrender him and you will be left to get on with your lives.” 

“Why do you want him and who are you?” Dean called trying to buy some time. 

“The Elite Guard of the Novak Empire. We are here to take the prince into custody.” The commanding officer placed his hands behind his back. “Now, where is he?” 

“Boys, don’t you dare do somethin’ stupid,” Bobby pleaded. 

The three of them were outnumbered two to one. Dean’s hand tightened on his sword grip. He and Sam had faced worse odds going up against pirates over the years, but pirates weren’t elite trained. Not like this small invasion of hardware and menacing smiles. 

“It’s okay! Stand down!” Balthazar—no, Castiel Novak called from behind Dean and Sam. 

Dean turned to see Castiel come walking out of the workshop, hands raised above his head. The sight made Dean’s stomach twist. He was pretty sure that no good would come of Castiel going with these guards. That the damage to the guns on the ship was a result of the same thing dragging Castiel back. 

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said as he drew just slightly ahead of Dean and Sam. “Sorry for not being completely honest about who I am. And sorry for bringing my troubles to your home.” He turned to Dean. “I truly am sorry,” Castiel repeated, eyes shining. “Bal- Castiel. We can… we can figure this out,” Dean said, throat tightening. 

“Like, I said, I’m sorry for not being completely honest about who I am, and what I was doing.” Castiel continued on to the Elite Guard, who parted for him to past through, movements swift and precise. 

The commander looked to Dean and Sam, bowing as he said, “Thank you for your cooperation.” 

One moment the small off-world force was there, the next they were in their ship and flying off on an escape trajectory. And they were taking with them the one person Dean had liked in a good long while. 

“I know that look,” Bobby said as Sam helped him back to his feet. “That’s the look of a boy determined to tame a happa and make a pet out of it. The look of a boy who jumped Stull Falls like it was a six foot jump. The look of a man who’s found love for the first time.” Bobby wagged his finger at Dean. “I said don’t do somethin’ stupid.” 

Sam mouthed “love” behind Bobby’s back. 

“Says the guy who once raced Rufus Turner around the Pontiac Click. You been doing stupid all your life Bobby.” Dean’s sword retracted and he looked towards the workshop where Castiel’s almost finished ship lay waiting. He ignored Bobby’s “love” comment and Sam’s. Now wasn’t the time to go thinking about those ideas. 

_Now’s the time to figure out how we’re gonna save a stranger who feels like home, and tomorrow, and life… and oh fuck, I’m in deep._


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel picked at the dunnee fruit that had been set before him, fingers teasing the fruit’s sweet red flesh. The cabin he had been sequestered inside was opulent and gilded like a cage. He wasn’t exactly a prisoner on the larger ship he’d been transferred to, there were no chains or locks. But he wasn’t exactly able to do what he wanted either. His cooperation was all that was keeping him from being shoved in the brig, shackled and tied down. 

He was certain now that Lucifer and Michael would not have him killed. Instead they would install him on the throne as their puppet, a popular face to appease the masses and allow his brothers to hide as they made war and clawed their riches off the lives of millions. 

A perfect plan was likely all worked out, had probably been before their father had even shown signs of giving the throne to Castiel. _I can’t doubt the lengths my brothers would go to_ , Castiel thought sourly as he pushed the plate of fruit away. 

Getting up from his seat, Castiel walked over to a data point and saw about trying to access any information he could. The system thankfully had access to the Empire news network and Castiel was able to see the latest news. 

“And there it is...” he grumbled to himself as he saw a story about how he had supposedly been taken ill before his expected coronation. And as soon as he was on the mend, the ceremony would go ahead. 

“‘The crown prince is doing well and we expect him to be crowned in several rotations...’ Am I, Michael?” Castiel shook his head and stopped reading. At least it confirmed the not dying part. Then he looked to some of the more gossipy stories that were displayed and saw massive speculation about what his marriage plans would be. He swallowed thickly and ignored the story that suggested his older brothers would be out on the hunt for a bride. 

Dean was there in his mind’s eye and Castiel swallowed again. His rescuer had made an impression and Castiel wondered if maybe, someday the two of them might be reunited. He had hoped that the brothers and Bobby might had understood some of his cryptic farewell. There was still time for them to help, and Castiel knew that they didn’t have a ship ready to fly off-world… yet. 

_I hope they find Gabriel_ , Castiel mused as he walked away from the data point and sat on the plush bed in his room. It had been some time since he had rested, but he hadn’t trusted what might happen should he fall asleep. The crew seemed normal enough, but he had no weapon, no nothing. He had been searched before boarding, which he knew would happen, and he had hidden nothing on his person that he could use as a weapon for fear of reprisals. 

_Still, I need to rest. It’s a rotation to Paridio. I need my strength for when I see Lucifer and Michael again._ Castiel tried to imagine his brothers for when he returned. They would tut and rebuke him, explain which bride they had already picked out for him, talk about how that ceremony would be a few rotations after the coronation. They would do everything to get Castiel tied down and obedient to them. 

Oh no doubt his bride would be someone he would come quickly to care about, though not necessarily love, and they would hold her over him to ensure his obedience. _I know their tactics and it would be just like them,_ Castiel thought. 

Climbing up into the bed proper, Castiel allowed himself to begin to drift. He was tired, his thoughts having nearly exhausted him. The memory of Dean holding him finally helped him slip into sleep and he dreamed. 

He dreamed of a lush green planet, walking barefoot on grass, hand-in-hand with Dean. Together. It was a very nice dream.


	10. Chapter 10

“Dean, what should we do about the ship?” Sam leaned against a counter in the kitchen area, arms crossed against his chest. 

Dean stared out the viewer blocks that covered one wall of the house. The view outside was just as it always, the plains beyond Singer Salvage flat and green in places, the tan ground seemingly never ending until the peaks of mountains appeared in the distance. 

He blinked and looked to Sam. “We finish the job.” 

“And what? Sell it?” 

“We finish the job. Get the fuel from Rufus.” 

“And…?” 

“We finish the job. Get the fuel from Rufus. And then we fucking help Castiel,” Dean gritted out as he rushed to his feet. 

“Dean, what the hell makes you think we can help the crown prince?!” Sam pushed off the counter. “He’s with his people.” 

“He’s not with his people. He was trying to get away from Paridio. Don’t you see?” Dean started for the door to head outside. 

“But Dean, how can _we_ possibly help Bal- Castiel!” Sam called after Dean as he followed his brother. 

In the workshop, Dean started climbing back into the galaxy hopper and towards the section he had been working on before the Elite Guard had turned up. “We’ll go to Janwin. Find Gabriel. Maybe he can help.” 

“Gabriel...” Sam’s voice went quiet as he climbed in after Dean. “Wait! Wait, wait, wait! He said the brother on Janwin was called Gabriel? He’s the missing prince. The long lost Novak!” he said, jumping up and banging his head. 

Dean looked up to Sam and watched his brother rub at the side of his head, wincing in pain. “Castiel seemed pretty clear that he hadn’t completely lied,” Dean said. _He tried to tell us the truth before he left_. “Janwin is where we need to go.” 

“Do you want me to-” 

“What, finish fixing this thing up? No. How about you get on the house system, see if you can’t get onto some data profiles and find out if Gabriel Novak is on Janwin and where we can find him.” Dean turned back to the wiring that still needed attention. 

“Okay, right. I’ll let you know as soon as I find something.” Sam hurried off. 

Left by himself, Dean’s fingers dug into the wiring and pulled out the next segment to check over. He worked patiently, his hands finding a familiar rhythm as he did a job he’d been training for since he was four years old. His mind quietened and he worked, cutting and replacing, clamping and soldering as he went, not letting himself think, because if he did that then he wouldn’t be able to help Castiel. 

Steadily making his way around the ship, Dean finished the work that was left. He was just screwing on the final open panel when Sam stepped in. 

“So get this,” Sam starts, putting a beer in Dean’s reach. 

Dean finished tightening the final panel and grabbed the beer, standing and giving Sam an expectant gaze. 

“Gabriel Novak is probably Loki Kavon, owner of the Ophidian Resort. You know that pleasure resort that-” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. How’d you figure this one out?” Dean asked, taking a sip of beer. 

“Well, Gabriel had quite the reputation even before he left. And I figured he’d head to a non-empire planet. He probably left with credits to hand. Makes sense he’d setup his new life as the owner of the most popular pleasure resort in the galaxy.” Sam shrugged. “The timings match, and while he looks quite different from Gabriel… well, Kavon is Novak spelled backwards. He could have had had surgery.” 

Dean nodded. “Okay, well let’s see how quickly Rufus can get those damn Durilium rods. We’re heading off-planet.” 

“Right!” Sam hurried off, taking his beer with him as Dean packed away the tools he was finished with. 

He started checking off the things that might need to take with them. Credits was one thing. Weapons probably another. Janwin was a peaceful planet to an extent. While nothing like Purgatory, it still attracted the types that would kill first and ask questions later. And then who the hell knew what would happen when they got to Paridio. 

If they even managed to get an audience with Gabriel-Loki, Dean wasn’t sure how they would convince him to help. But they needed to try. There was no way Dean and Sam could head to Paridio as just themselves and somehow help Castiel. 

Dean finished tidying up and started towards the weapons locker they kept deep inside the compound. Or rather: weapons vault. It was underground, probably the safest place there. A last resort should the pirates someday tried to overrun the entire place. 

Reaching the entrance, Dean shook off the grit covered sheet that helped hide the ground level latch, keyed it open and climbed down the stairwell that led underground. Dean flicked on a light from his rig to light his way as the light from above started to disappear. 

“You’re about to do somethin’ stupid, aren’t you?” Bobby called from behind Dean as he reached the bottom of the stairwell. 

“Probably. But it’s the right thing.” Dean held his hand against a panel beside the vault’s door and the panel scanner activated. The device opened the door and Dean stepped inside. 

“Suppose I can’t argue with that,” Bobby mused as he followed Dean inside. 

“Do you think we need the quasi-cell-launcher?” Dean studied a large hand launcher that would launch high energy balls at a target, leading to a big explosion. 

“Depends if you gotta break through any walls,” Bobby advised. 

_Might have to_. Dean shifted it near the door out the vault. 

He went around the vault, picking out various weapons and their ammo, leaving them by the door. Dean approached something that was covered by a green tarpaulin. He yanked the cover off and looked at the pair of artillery guns underneath. They hadn’t originally planned to do anything other than make the guns on the hopper functional again, but these would significantly even their odds against the Elite Guard and anything else the Novaks might throw their way. Pirates wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“I had been saving those for a rainy day,” Bobby mused. 

“We’ll swap them in,” Dean said. “You can keep Castiel’s artillery.” 

Dean could feel Bobby roll his eyes at Dean’s back. But he didn’t care. His gut was saying this was the right thing to do. That he needed to get to Castiel and get him out of whatever situation he’d been dragged into.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel looked around his palace bedroom again. Even though he’d hardly been away for any real length of time, his space in the royal palace already felt alien. Like it was a part of himself that he had amputated and had no real reason to expect he would see it again. Each room of his apartment just felt wrong. 

Having been deposited there by the Elite Guard, Castiel was waiting for an audience with his brothers before going to his coronation. Or at least he believed he was. There were guards outside the royal apartment, waiting for Castiel to be called for. An outfit had been laid out for him. It looked ridiculous compared to the simple attire Dean had furnished him with. He knew it was for his coronation, but there was no need for him to look like an overdressed doll. 

_Why should I wear such opulence when my people are dying in war? Gold thread and diamond encrusted necklines. It’s disgusting._ Castiel turned away from his bed again. He would change, just not into that. 

Heading to his bathroom, Castiel drew up a bath, adding sweet smelling salts, honey like in aroma. Once the copper sided tub was nearly full of steaming water, Castiel turned off the faucet, stepped out of his borrowed clothes and got into the bath. 

The heat of the water wrapped around Castiel, coaxing away aches and pains that Castiel hadn’t even known he had. He must have slept awkwardly on the journey back, he concluded and then he remembered the guest bed at Singer Salvage. That bed had a lot to answer for, and Castiel wondered if Dean’s back was feeling better. 

_Dean… I… I’m sorry_ , Castiel thought, a wave of sadness brushing over him. He wished they had found each other sooner and under better circumstances. 

Taking a long breath, Castiel focused on the positive. He was alive. He was not in the dungeons. He still had the chance to act in small ways. _I will just have to be careful_ , Castiel decided. _I won’t give Lucifer and Michael the satisfaction of seeing me break._

Castiel finished his bath and dried himself. Back in his bedroom, he ignored the clothes that had been set aside for him. Instead he went to his wardrobe and walked inside, looking for something that was simple and elegant. 

Fingers drifting over richly woven fabrics and garments that had been designed by some of the galaxy’s most famous designers, his right hand came to rest on a gray segment of fabric. Castiel pulled the item out and saw a tunic he had not worn since his days at university. A simple gray tunic, the threads tightly woven. It had silvery swirls embroidered on the hems of its sleeves. 

He found a black pair of trousers and a few more items—belts, boots and a silver chain his late father had given him—and took it to his bed. Castiel dressed himself and tried to style his hair, but it failed to co-operate as was usual. 

Standing in front of a mirror, Castiel looked himself over. He looked more like the kind of king his father had tried to be. Nothing like the grandness of his older brothers and the outfit they must have chosen for him. 

There was a knock at the doors to Castiel’s apartment. Castiel headed towards his living room. “Enter,” he called. 

The doors opened and Castiel kept his expression neutral as a page walked in. 

“Your royal highness, the royal highnesses ask you follow me for your meeting.” The page looked nervously around the room, eyes looking anywhere but at Castiel. He was a young man, not more than 16 cycles of age. Castiel did not recognize him. 

“Of course they do. Please, lead the way.” Castiel followed the page as the young man turned. 

Outside of his apartment, two members of the Elite Guard fell into step behind them, their feet echoing against the highly polished wooden floors. Castiel recalled a time when he could walk through the halls of his family’s palace with no such interference. That had changed with his father’s passing. It had been a small miracle that Castiel had been able to flee at all. _No thanks to Anna_. 

The halls and rooms they passed seemed increasingly unfamiliar. Finally they reached the doors that led to the royal ballroom, which hosted his court. A pair of guards pulled them open and Castiel was led inside. Faces Castiel had expected to see gathered here and there were no longer present. Balthazar and Benny were nowhere to be seen and Castiel prayed his friends had managed to find safety. Anna, however, was nowhere to be seen despite who she clearly sided with. 

Those gathered there, all dressed in their finery, bowed and curtsied as Castiel walked past them to the dais that had been erected towards the rear of the immense space. The ceiling and walls of the room were a bright white, layered with trailing vines burnished in gold leaf, trailing all the way up to the glass cupola that crowned the high ceiling. 

Sat at the dais, either side of the throne, were Castiel’s older brothers, Michael and Lucifer, resplendent in outfits not too dissimilar from the one Castiel had chosen not to wear. Looking to his periphery, Castiel saw the royal crown that waited for him, being held atop a purple cushion that some other page had been given care of. 

_So no private audience then._ Castiel kept his calm now clearly walking to his coronation. He spotted a news rig nearer the throne and of course the whole thing was going to broadcast to their subjects. 

A priest, dressed in the bright blues of the pantheon, stepped forward as Castiel drew closer and the crystal bells of the gods sounded from their homes in the ballroom ceiling. He had expected to be dragged to a temple for this, but Castiel supposed that his brothers wanted him crowned first before going out in public again. 

“I call you all to witness, gods, men and women alike, your royal highness, Castiel Novak, first of his name!” called out the priest. 

And without further ado, the priest launched into the coronation, incense and all. Castiel was aware that millions would be watching him and so he stayed on his best behavior, speaking his kingly and emperor vows when prompted. Throwing no shade towards his brothers. Castiel was civil and every bit the ruler he was about to be at least in name. 

It took an hour of vows and chanting before Castiel ascended the dais and took his place as king of Paridio and emperor of the Novak Empire. He looked out across his subjects, a small polite smile on his face and raised his hands for silence. 

“Thank you, my loyal subjects,” he started. “I wish to thank my brothers for staying by my side as I ailed. And to you, my subjects, for your prayers and loyalty.” Castiel smiled down at Lucifer and Michael and then looked to the members of his court. “As is my right as your king and emperor, I declare this rotation a holiday for my subjects. May you find joy as I do on this day.” 

He looked down the dais to his brothers and noted the strained smiles looking back at him. It was tradition for the king to make such a declaration on his coronation. Of course his brothers probably hoped he had forgotten, so that it wouldn’t affect the factories supplying their war effort. 

Castiel quietly chuckled to himself. _Small acts of rebellion, brothers, will greet you every day. I will be your pawn only so much_. Though Castiel knew that once he had a wife, he would need to be careful just how and when he chose to make things just that touch more difficult for them.


	12. Chapter 12

“We got the credits if you’ve got the rooms,” Dean said, leaning against the service counter at the main desk for the Ophidian Resort. He smiled as charming a smile as he could, eyes flirting with the concierge. 

The little brunette Janwinian, pale skin speckled with small purple marks like many of her people, stared up at Dean, eyes big and interested in more than just credits. “I’m sorry, but we’ve only got one one room available at the moment… and it’s two singles. Will that be okay?” 

Dean looked over at Sam, knowing that his brother’s feet would likely hang off the edge of the bed. “Sure thing, sweetheart.” Dean winked and then transferred the necessary credits for the room. 

“And you’ve both had your biome doses, correct?” 

Dean and Sam winced. “Oh definitely,” Sam replied. 

The two of them headed for their room after getting their access configured. They were on the 201st floor. Getting there was easy with the hover lifts, but Dean kind of wished that they were closer to the ground. It had been painful enough dealing with his fears of take-off when they’d left Hunder to head for Janwin. Flying through space was fine, it was the take-offs and landings that Dean just didn’t like. 

“This is us,” Sam said, “room 39.” 

Dean motioned for Sam to head in and came in up behind him, toting their weapons bag. The security guards at the resort had made little of the weapons they had brought in. Resorts like Ophidian ran on an implicit agreement with its guests that if they killed anyone, well, the local law enforcement wasn’t going to find your dead body. 

“My feet are going to be hanging off the end,” Sam grumped as he lowered the weapons bag onto the bed. 

It wasn’t their entire arsenal for the trip, the rest was on Castiel’s galaxy hopper, which was secured safely in the resort’s main lot for spacecraft. Theft at Ophidian carried similar penalties to killing, loss of limbs being the main outcome. 

_Loki/Gabriel really knows how to run a joint_ , Dean thought as he put down a canvas bag filled with less dangerous things. Clothes and Sam’s ridiculous smelling shampoo that smelled more like food than something to clean hair with. 

After settling in and changing their outfits, Dean and Sam headed out to see if they could find Loki and persuade him to help them out. Dean found himself hoping that Sam’s research wasn’t wrong and that the short, amber eyed man they were looking for really was Castiel’s brother. He’d hate to end up dead for trying to make contact with the wrong person. 

The main banquet hall was busy at that point in rotation, filled with people taking supper. Dean led the way into the space, him and Sam passing tables occupied by all sorts of people. It’s not that the two of them had never seen people from outside of Hunder, it’s just only a few sorts headed to their backwater of a planet. 

A high joyous laugh drew Dean’s attention and he focused on a table that stood out from the rest. 

“And I said to him, ‘If you don’t put down that Rellian lobster, it is going to leave you with fewer balls than you have right now.’” A short man recounted to a table of guests. His hair was tawny, his eyes amber. “Well, of course the fool thought I was just trying to keep him distracted. But this Rellian lobster was bigger than a Squellian crab—and I’m sure you know how big those get—and its claws were hanging right by his naked junk.” The stranger laughed, the same laugh that had drawn Dean to him in the first place. 

The table the stranger and his guests were sat at stood out from the rest in the hall. A little glitzier and its guests had just those few more notches in dress. 

“Gabriel-Loki-whatever,” Dean said to Sam. “I think that’s him.” 

“And so he ignores my warnings. Takes three steps towards me and then… WHAM! That Rellian lobster has got his four remaining balls in both its claws. Cutting through like he was made of butter! Goddesses, the blood and screaming! I’ll never forget it.” Loki caught sight of Dean and Sam, crooked an eyebrow, before looking back to his audience. 

“Now, please. Do all try the Rellian lobster we have tonight. It’s freshly caught and cooked,” Loki asked. “Your balls will be perfectly safe Colonel,” he reassured one Doniant man with a large platinum mustache. 

Loki left the table and walked straight up to Dean and Sam. It was unexpected, Dean had to admit, but it saved them the trouble of trying to find him. Then out of the corners of his eyes, Dean saw figures moving towards them between the tables. Security. 

“Now, gentlemen, what can I do for you?” Loki asked, a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Dean, licked his lips. Carefully pulling together something to say that wouldn’t get them kicked out and have them lose their chance at getting some help for their mission. 

“Castiel says hi, Gabriel,” is what Dean goes with. 

Loki’s right eye twitched. He turned to the security guards coming from his right. “Throw these gentlemen in the cells. I’ll deal with them later!” Loki declared, spinning on his heel and walking off before Dean or Sam could protest. 

Dean took a step toward Loki and then electric current was buzzing through his body, making his hair stand on end. Beside him, Sam sounded like he was in the same position as both of them were tasered. Body filled with pain and numbness, Dean fell forwards, collapsing to the floor and hoping that someday he would be able to wreck vengeance against Loki Kovan. 

Unable to move, Dean was helpless as his wrists were restrained and then he and Sam were loaded onto stretchers. They were carried away, the other guests paying them little heed. _How fucking often does this happen?!_ Dean swore, unable to work his jaw.


	13. Chapter 13

“Your majesty,” the demure woman greeted, head bobbing as she curtsied. “It is an honor to meet you.” 

“Castiel, this is Lady Hannah,” Lucifer explained, the boredom in his voice obvious. 

Taking in the woman before him, Castiel couldn’t help noticing how dainty she looked. Like a good breeze would perhaps bowl her over. She was pretty, Castiel supposed, but her auburn curls and rich dress suggested that Hannah would be unable to stand the rigors of Castiel’s brothers should he disappoint them in some way. 

Still, she was the first potential wife Lucifer had shown him that day who had not made Castiel’s skin crawl. If he was going to rage a war against his brothers, Castiel would rather do it with someone at his side who might be able to understand where he was coming from. Hannah smiled at him. 

“Lady Hannah, it is a delight to meet you,” Castiel declared. He could feel Lucifer straighten to attention beside him, surprise clear. Castiel had finally not dismissed a match right off the bat and he could see the gears turning in Lucifer’s head as he decided how to deal with such a positive turn of events. 

Lucifer looked to Castiel. “If you like, the two of you perhaps could have afternoon tea?” 

Taking a moment to flick his gaze beyond the people on and by the dais, Castiel saw Hannah’s waiting, expectant, father. “That would be good, yes.” 

Castiel rose from the dais and stepped down. He stopped beside Lady Hannah and offered his arm to her. She took it gratefully and Castiel followed Lucifer as the three of them left the rest of his court. They were escorted to a private tea room, on the west side of the palace, which got the last of the rotation’s light. 

Lucifer waited for the two of them to be seated and then clapped his hands. A small feast of tea, cakes and tiny sandwiches were brought in by a flurry of palace staff. Once the table was ready, Lucifer clapped his hands again and the staff left. 

Being king, it was not expected for Castiel and Lady Hannah’s meeting to be escorted. So Lucifer bowed out, promising that there would be someone on the other side to respond to anything they might need. 

The door closed and Castiel sighed. Hannah looked to him, a puzzled look knitting her brows. 

“Sorry, I just hate having so much… attention upon me for so long.” Castiel smiled at Hannah. “Would you like some tea?” 

“Please, your majesty.” 

“It’s Castiel.” 

Hannah gave him a worried glance. “Majesty?” 

“Castiel is fine, I promise.” 

Hannah smiled more warmly. “Then please, Castiel. I would like some tea.” 

Picking up the pot of tea, Castiel poured them a cupful each, passing sugar and milk as asked for. 

“I must admit,” Hannah said once they were two Rellian cucumber sandwiches into their meeting, “you are not quite what I was expecting.” 

Castiel quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, and just what were you expecting?” 

“Someone far more like your brothers,” Hannah said. She picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. “But if you can tell that story about that poor man and the Rellian lobster then there is no way you are anything like your brothers. I don’t believe they have a mole of humor between them. If you don’t mind me saying so, Castiel.” 

“Not at all.” Castiel grinned. “And you’re right, my brothers don’t care much for humor.” He sipped his tea and set his cup down. For a moment he wished he had had the chance to tell Dean the lobster story. His eyes looked out the windows of the tea room to the gardens of the palace beyond. 

The space outside was lush, but artificial. Using a waste of resources to be kept alive. Much like the war his brothers fought without reason against the Hellian Republic. He wished he could end the war there and then, but he needed to be rid of his brothers and their supporters first. 

“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked. 

Castiel looked to the good lady. He didn’t want to embroil her in his wider plans, but if he was to have a wife that he could trust, then he might succeed. Still, he worried about how his brothers might use her against him. 

“Hannah, tell me… how do you feel about our war against the Hellian Republic?” 

Hannah set down her cup and turned gave Castiel a thoughtful gaze. “I think that… that the war has led to much pointless death and destruction. That it should be ended,” she said, her voice wavering as she spoke. It was her mind that she spoke _._

_She worries that I will judge her unfit, even though she speaks the truth_. Castiel nodded. “And you are right, Hannah.” 

A gasp escaped her. “You… you don’t believe in the war?” 

Castiel shook his head. “My father was trying to end it before his death. End it once and for all. My brothers are continuing it. I do not want it. I know that it does not serve the good of the Empire and my people.” 

Hope shone in Hannah’s eyes and she smiled. “Castiel, why can’t you stop them?” 

“They have too many friends in high places. You see, I am a puppet, Hannah. And if you are to become my wife, then you too will be a part of this performance. Delicately continuing the lie that Michael and Lucifer tell so that they may line their pockets with riches they need not.” Castiel picked up a small pink cake and popped it into his mouth. He chewed the sweet iced treat, watching Hannah as she considered his words. 

Hannah poured herself more tea, adding milk and sugar. She stirred the tea and set aside the spoon. Picking up the cup she said, “Why are you telling me this?” 

Castiel plucked another cake, this one had a light green icing covering it. “I hope that if we were to marry, perhaps you might be my ally in cutting our strings and bringing this performance to a halt.” 

A thoughtful look passed over Hannah’s face. “You know Castiel, this is not quite the proposal I was expecting.” 

And this was it, wasn’t it? For Castiel to succeed, he couldn’t hope that Dean might arrive like some knight of old and save him. He needed to forge his own path and hope that he could find the allies to help him. Like Hannah. 

“We’ll need to do this officially,” Castiel said with a pang of pain settling over his heart. 

He was about to say more, and then Lucifer burst into the room, rage in his eyes. “Please escort Lady Hannah to the guest wing,” he said stiffly to the guards outside. Then he turned to Castiel. “You!” 

Castiel felt lightheaded as the fury of his brother burned into him. A blue glow surrounded Castiel and then Lucifer was on him as Hannah was yanked out of the room. Lucifer’s hands closed around Castiel’s throat and he squeezed. Of course the room had been bugged. _I’m sorry, Hannah_ , Castiel thought as consciousness left him.


	14. Chapter 14

“C’mon, we didn’t do anything!” Dean yelled for the umpteenth time. But having spent a quarter of a rotation in the cell (so far as Dean could tell, it was dark after all) chained to the wall, arms aching, Dean knew that no one was really listening. 

Sam snorted and drifted back into a doze. 

Dean glared at him, but Sam was probably right to try and reserve his energy. All they’d done was try to speak to Loki. Every other crazy rule they had followed to the letter and no one, nowhere had ever said don’t talk to Loki. _Though it probably doesn’t help bringing up his brother’s name and his real name when he’s got company, dumbass_ , Dean berated himself. 

Metal scraped on metal and the door to the cell was heaved open, light spilling in. Dean squinted against the glare and looked to see who was coming into the cell. 

Loki stood just inside the doorway, a tan leather jacket on with a shirt and combat pants. His boots looked like they could hold knives. He had a sword module at his left hip. 

“Give me a good reason why I shouldn’t gut you two myself?” Loki asked, stepping over to Dean. 

“Hate to see you get blood on your jacket,” Dean joked. “Oh, and we came here for help to save your brother. You know, Castiel.” 

Loki tilted his head to the side, studying Dean. 

“Castiel crashed on Hunder, fleeing Paridio, so far as we can tell,” Sam piped in. “We know you’re Gabriel.” Dean tried to shrug in his chains, but couldn’t. Instead pain lanced across his shoulders and upper back. 

“Fine,” Gabriel backed down a little. “You got me… And you two think you can save Cassie?” 

Dean looked between himself and Sam. “Not by ourselves.” 

“Come now, Gabriel, stop with the torturing,” an unfamiliar voice called through the doorway. The voice was followed by a tall, slender man with blond hair and pale stubble on his face. He was dressed similarly to Gabriel and also kitted out. 

“Balthazar, I just need to be sure before we possibly go to our deaths!” Gabriel sniped back. 

Dean looked at the newcomer. “You’re Balthazar?” 

Balthazar bowed and straightened. “At your service.” 

“Ha. Castiel was pretending to be you when he was on Hunder.” Dean laughed. “You’re, uh, very different from Cas.” 

A big grin spread across Balthazar’s face. “He pretended to me? That is darling. Benny, are you joining us?” 

Benny turned out to be a man almost tall as Sam, and broader. Well muscled like he could punch through a wall given a chance. His eyes sparkled and he looked between Dean and Sam in almost disbelief. 

“So, you gonna let us down?” Sam prompted. 

“Right, right.” Gabriel stepped forward and released them. “Look, sorry about this, but I needed to keep up appearances. It’s not like many know who I am.” 

Rubbing at his aching wrists, Dean looked over at Balthazar and Benny. “And these two?” 

“Well, they only learned when they came here looking for me. But enough chit chat. We’ll give you some shots for the pain, let you change and grab your shit, but we need to get moving,” Gabriel headed for the door. “I don’t think Cassie’s got much time.” 

Those words sent ice down Dean’s spine. His heart started to thud faster in his chest. “What do you mean he doesn’t have much time?” 

“My court contact didn’t make her last check in,” Gabriel explained as they walked along a service corridor and then headed up a set of stairs. “She’s meant to check in four times a rotation and she didn’t make her last one.” 

The five of them stepped through a secured doorway and were suddenly in the resort hotel proper once more. “Who’s your contact?” Sam asked. 

“Lady Hannah of Lebanon. She tried to set herself up to get engaged to Castiel, to help protect him,” Gabriel explained as they marched. There was a lack of guests in the hallways. 

“E-engaged?” Dean choked out. 

Gabriel looked back at Dean for a split second. “Yeah. Best way to get close to him and keep him safe.” 

“Ah, Dean has intentions towards your brother,” Sam supplied when no one had asked him to. 

“Sam!” Dean blanched, looking at his brother with a sense of betrayal curling around him. 

Gabriel laughed. “Yeah, well, once this is over we can talk about that more. Either way—I think they’re both in trouble. My other contact hasn’t seen Castiel since Hannah went silent.” 

_Oh, okay…_ Dean had no idea where they were until they took an elevator to the floor he and Sam had been staying on. He tried not to think more about the fact that he’d had his romantic life outed to Castiel’s brother. But Sam would face some kind of justice in the future, Dean would make sure of it. 

Dean and Sam changed, got given something for the pain caused by their captivity, and then grabbed their things. They were to get the galaxy hopper and meet up with Gabriel, Benny and Balthazar on the outskirts of the Janwin capital, away from the resort. 

The plan was two ships heading for Paridio. Benny had obtained credentials for both ships so that they would be able to land on Paridio. And Sam had changed the registration for Castiel’s galaxy hopper anyway, figuring no one needed to know it was formerly from the royal household. 

“So you ready?” Gabriel asked as they finally met on the outskirts of the capital. 

“Unless there’s something you’re not telling us?” Dean offered. “Hate to be caught short… again.” 

Gabriel looked around the five of them, making sure they weren’t being watched. He looked to Benny and Balthazar. “Should I tell them?” 

Balthazar looked thoughtful, while Benny just squinted at Dean and Sam. The two men took a moment consider Gabriel’s question. 

“It would offer some much needed context,” Balthazar hazarded. “But, I mean, we don’t know if it’s true.” Benny nodded. “Might help, but again we ain’t got no confirmation, cher. Could be nothin’.” 

“You guys fly without me, I’m gonna hop on board with these two cowboys,” Gabriel announced, hefting his bag and heading for the galaxy hopper. 

“There’s only two seats!” Sam complained. 

“There a bed?” Gabriel shot back. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Well you can take the bed,” Gabriel announced and headed inside the hopper. 

Sam gave Dean a pained look. The bed was snug, if Dean was being honest. 

“Just get some sleep, huh?” Dean suggested.


	15. Chapter 15

Body on fire, Castiel slowly opened his eyes. He was tied down to an examination chair, his tunic gone. He was left in his light pants, feet exposed. The lights of the room were an eerie red. Focusing his vision further, Castiel could see he had been taken to some kind of medical examination room. It had none of the reassuring brightness of the medical room at Singer Salvage. 

“Ah, you’re awake,” Lucifer said from somewhere behind him. 

Castiel tried to swallow, but the movement hurt. He wanted to say something back, but his abused throat didn’t feel capable. 

“Well, we had hoped for more cooperation from you, brother,” Michael spoke up behind. 

“W-where’s… Hannah?” Castiel croaked out, throat feeling like it was burning. 

“No need for you to worry yourself about Lady Hannah.” Lucifer came around the chair and stood in front of Castiel. His brother looked like he was bathed in blood in the eerie red light filling the room. 

Castiel took in his surroundings again. He didn’t understand what was going on. Of course he had said things, but for that he expected to be locked in his room and under further surveillance. Though he also hadn’t expected to be strangled by his brother. 

“What… is… going on?” Castiel managed. 

Michael chose that moment to step into view. He looked equally like he was ready to kill someone as he came to stand beside Lucifer. Their outfits made no sense for the setting—their opulence a contrast to the cruel sterility of the room and Castiel’s exposure. 

“You didn’t tell us you were graced,” Michael said. 

“Graced?” Castiel had no idea what Michael was talking about. He’d never heard the term before. 

“You are graced, Castiel. Just like our father was. And a long line of Novaks before.” Lucifer leaned in, head drawing level with Castiel’s. “Such a shame really, because just like our father, you don’t want to put your power to the use it was intended for.” 

“I-I really don’t know… what you’re talking about.” Castiel shied away from Lucifer. 

“You have power over life and death. You could help us finally end the Hellian Republic. Crush them and make their worlds our own.” Lucifer smiled. “Just like the Novak Empire has always been destined to do.” 

Michael leaned in beside Lucifer. “You’ll be our perfect weapon, Castiel.” 

The brothers stepped away from Castiel and moved behind his chair again. Wheels squeaked behind him and a metal trolley was rolled out by Lucifer. Atop the trolley was what appeared to be a large blue crystal, nestled on a stand. 

“You are far younger than father,” Michael started, a blade suddenly in his hand, “which is good, because there will be more grace for us to draw upon.” Getting in close, drawing up the blade level with Castiel’s throat, Michael seemed a different man to the one Castiel thought he had known. 

“You might even survive,” Michael added in a faraway voice. 

Castiel tried to pull himself out of his restraints, until Michael pushed him back and cut his throat.


	16. Chapter 16

Paridio was beautiful from the sky. So unlike Hunder or even Janwin. The mega cities that covered the planet were immense and spiraled high into the sky. Dean had never seen anything like it in person. 

“And this graced thing… Run that by me again?” Dean asked as he steered the hopper to the landing spot Gabriel was directing him to. They would be landing not far from the palace walls of where Castiel was likely being held. 

“Ugh, look. Cassie’s like some cosmic battery. Dad was like it to.” Gabriel pointed towards an item on the cockpit readout. “Look, land there.” 

“Cosmic battery...” Dean muttered as he brought the ship down to where Gabriel had indicated. Beside them, Balthazar and Benny touched down. 

“We here?” Sam called from the connecting corridor. 

“Yes, get ready!” Dean called back. 

Once the ship was made safe, Dean and Gabriel headed into the hold where Sam was going through the firepower they’d brought with them from Bobby’s. Dean’s eyes landed on the quasi-cell-launcher. 

“I’ll be taking this,” Dean announced, grabbing the launcher. He loaded up on two blasters, his sword, and some rounds for the launcher. 

When everyone was kitted out with armor and weapons, Balthazar and Benny taking advantage of the stash, and Gabriel sticking to his sword and a blaster, the five of them headed to the outer wall of the palace. Gabriel had an idea about where Castiel was being held and directed them to the nearest external wall. He pulled out a box of biome injectors and held them out for Dean and Sam to use. 

“We’ll have ten minutes to get Castiel and Hannah out of here,” Gabriel said. “As soon as we smash through the outer line, we’ll be under siege,” he explained as Dean and Sam injected themselves. 

Sam licked his lips and held up his hand. 

Gabriel roll his eyes as he stuck himself with an injector. “Yes?” 

Sam put his hand down. “How come no one’s stopping us already? This place is rigged with security surveillance.” 

“This is a blind spot that I worked hard to keep as a blind spot. And you better hope it stays that way for when we get the heck out of dodge.” Gabriel looked between them. “Ready?” 

A round of agreements sounded and everyone fell back behind Dean. He pointed the quasi-cell-launcher at the wall and flicked the arm switch to armed. _I probably should have tested this before, back on the plains…_ Dean thought to himself as he fired the weapon. 

There was no sound for a moment as a ball of energy erupted from the end of the launcher and contacted with the wall. The ball was a bright white light, growing brighter, bigger and hotter as time seemed to slow around them. 

And then the ball seemed to stop for a moment, just glowing and pulsing. 

Dean blinked. 

BOOM! 

The wall shattered and was sucked into the ball of energy before falling to the ground as a fine dust. Gabriel was yelling and they were all running into the palace grounds, shooting and skirting the Elite Guards who were on their heels in seconds. 

Dean fired the launcher towards where the guards were coming from, causing unpassable chasms to open up before them. Their group got into the palace in good time, bursting upon its opulence like a hurricane. 

“You two, head to the old courtyard. Hannah will be there,” Gabriel ordered Benny and Balthazar. 

“Sure thing,” Benny answered and pulled Balthazar after him. 

“You two with me,” Gabriel ordered. 

Dean watched the way the guy move and realized that even though he’d been some princeling all those years ago, the guy had combat experience. Every step was measured and trained. 

“STOP!” screamed a guard down a grand hallway. 

Gabriel ignored him and shot him square in the chest with a stunning bolt of his blaster. The three of them powered on, following Gabriel deeper and deeper into the palace. 

Reaching a stairwell that looked like it led to a wine cellar, Gabriel took point, weapon pointed ahead and led the way. Dean brought up the rear, keeping an eye on their six. They reached the wine cellar and Gabriel led through through racks of dusty bottles. 

It took some time, but they reached a wall where a doorway had been revealed. Outside it, two men, dressed nothing like guards, were emerging. 

“Brothers,” Gabriel greeted, weapon held high. “Where is Castiel?” 

The two men frowned at Gabriel, Dean and Sam. 

“Gabriel?” asked the one with light hair. 

“The one and only. Now where in a happa’s ass is Castiel?” Gabriel pulled out his sword. Glancing beyond the princes to the open doorway behind them, Dean noticed a weird red glow and a blue-purplish light. 

“Stand down!” the brother with dark hair yelled. 

“Not a chance.” Gabriel flourished his sword. 

The princes charged at them, but before Dean or Sam could react, a blaster shot off twice and the two princes collapsed to the floor, stunned. Dean looked over to Gabriel to see the blaster at his hip. 

“Sharp shooting,” Dean complimented. 

“Let’s just go save Cassie, huh?” Gabriel smiled and led the way. 

“I’ll keep an eye on these two,” Sam said, waiting by the door, a blaster trained on each prince.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art in this chapter is what inspired the story <3

“DEAN!” Castiel screamed, bolting upright in his bed.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” Dean soothed, getting up from the chair he’d been keeping watch from.

Castiel looked around his familiar bedroom, the lush fittings rankling against him. He had seen it again. The blue crystal smashing to the ground, the lance of power driving through his heart.

He had felt like he had been electrocuted when the grace had flown back into him. Every cell in his body bubbling and sizzling. Castiel looked around his bedroom and realized he was glowing again.

“Hey, everything’s fine.” Dean climbed up onto the bed and pulled Castiel into his arms.

“You saved me,” Castiel stated. He couldn’t remember if he and Dean had talked about this already. It had been several rotations since he was rescued, but it was taking some time to bring his mind and body back in order.

“It was a group effort,” Dean said humbly.

“And Hannah is well?”

“Benny and Balthazar were able to save Hannah. She says she hopes you get well soon.”

Castiel allowed Dean to keep holding him, burying his face into Dean’s chest where it was warm, and smelled like Janwin beer and woodsmoke. Taking a few steadying breaths, Castiel looked up at Dean and asked for the fourth time, “Are you sure you want to stay with me?”

Dean smiled and kissed the top of Castiel’s head. “Well, to be honest, when Gabriel said you might be marrying Hannah, I was jealous. And you know, I did fly halfway around the galaxy to save your sorry ass.”

Sitting up in Dean’s arms, Castiel made sure his lover was looking at him. “I have a whole empire to rebuild. A new ally to forge alliances with. I will be incredibly busy with my duties, Dean.”

“Sign me up.”

Leaning back into Dean, Castiel smiled. “You’ve never played at being king before.”

“Technically you haven’t either.” Dean kissed the top of Castiel’s head again.

“It’s very different from fixing up ships and hunting for salvage.”

“Does it mean I get to be with you?”

“Yes. In fact I think Gabriel has already been looking into a date for a ceremony.”

“Wai- what?”

“Yes, he said he had to get the head temple booked soon.”

Dean was silent for a moment and then asked, “What’s my title going to be?”

“You’ll be Prince Dean.”

“Say… do you know if any of the royal family’s fleet needs fixing up?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3
> 
> Kudos and comments appreciated. You can find me on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com).
> 
> Don't forget to check out Aceriee's [art post](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16743574).


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